HYDRA was completely wrecked.
Their main assault force got obliterated by the Asgardian sibling trio.
The HYDRA agents infiltrating the Federal Bureau of Investigation Academy were spun like Beyblades by the students and ended up as living props for a surprise test.
And the squad ambushing The Fridge? Absolutely smoked.
Not a single fleck of bone dust remained. Hulk's rage-fueled blood flames turned them to ash.
Let's be clear: HYDRA went all-in this time. Every last mass-produced Winter Soldier they'd hoarded over the years? Gone. Prototypes? Captured during the Helicarrier invasion.
Not to mention the two Super Winter Soldiers.
Even HYDRA's top brass led by Madame Hydra were racking their collective brains trying to figure out where the hell that OP woman in the Bureau came from.
If they'd known there was someone this busted on the playing field, HYDRA would've gladly stayed in hiding for another hundred years.
Unfortunately for them, the X-Men's telepaths kept intel leaks to practically zero. So HYDRA walked into a massacre with a massive information gap.
Result? John Garrett died with nothing left to bury.
Arnim Zola's digital brain got crushed. And when his consciousness tried to escape into the internet as an electrical signal, it was blocked by Jarvis and locked into a horror movie streaming site—forced to binge nonstop gore flicks, 24/7, no skip button.
But HYDRA wasn't entirely wiped out.
Their high-value assets were toast, but not every other division had S-tier agents or superhumans guarding it.
So, a bunch of branches still fell into HYDRA's hands.
Once personnel from The Fridge, the Academy, and HQ regrouped, they immediately started assessing the situation nationwide.
Out of fifty branches, twenty-four were under HYDRA control.
HYDRA might be small fry compared to the Bureau's main HQ, but they were still a juggernaut when going up against isolated branches.
Fury didn't waste time. He handed out assignments for reclaiming every lost base.
Intel suggested many agents at those locations were still alive—still fighting.
So to speed things up, Fury even deployed students from the Bureau Academy. Each team came with two senior agents, one for commanding, one for calculating... weighted academic credits.
Because only the promise (or threat) of credits could stop these students from suddenly doing something wildly chaotic.
But Dante, Hela, and Hulk? Not on the team lists.
Coulson patted Dante's shoulder.
"Told you before—we used to kill mosquitoes with cannons because cannons were all we had. Now we've got electric swatters. No need to bring out the artillery every time. Also... you really wanna fight a bunch of Academy kids for academic credits?"
With that, Coulson and Steve Rogers split into two squads and headed off to support different branches.
Steve didn't stick around to babysit his BFF, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes. He used special high-molecular ropes, developed by the Bureau—to wrap Bucky up like a present. Even if Steve himself got tied up in those, he wouldn't break out.
Then Bucky, along with General Ross, got thrown into the isolation wing beneath HQ.
Naturally, a full-on military assault on the U.S. capital drew the attention of the American government and the entire world.
Fury's phone kept ringing off the hook, but he ignored it.
Until he got sick of the buzzing and picked up.
"Hello, this is Fury."
"American military? You heard we've got General Thaddeus Ross?"
"You want us to hand him over now? Are your brains filled with bacon grease? He's still brainwashed. What happens if he comes to, turns into that psycho Red Gamma monster, and blows you and your grandma's urn to dust?"
"Don't talk to me like that, Lieutenant General. The Bureau only reports to the World Federation. Not the U.S. Not the FBI. Not the CIA. Not the Super Investigation Department. None of 'em. Motherf—!"
"You wanna talk to the President? Go ahead. But I'll tell you straight: even the American President can't touch the Bureau."
"Lieutenant General, I appreciate your call, but I do not appreciate your tone."
"You better hope you've never jaywalked, because the Bureau will dig into every second of your life from kindergarten onward."
After laying down a verbal nuke, Fury hung up.
Then he glanced over at Dante.
"…No. Are you seriously doing this while I'm yelling at someone?"
Dante was casually holding Hela's hand in the Director's office, reading her palm.
Fury had a complicated relationship with Dante—equal parts admiration and blood pressure.
Who the hell reads a woman's fortune in the middle of a strategic debriefing?
Let alone this woman.
Mystically speaking: she's the Death Goddess, a divine being.
Scientifically speaking: she's a humanoid alien from Asgard.
"What, you want me to cheer while you scream into the phone? Maybe pour you some water so you can yell for another eight hundred rounds?"
Dante pouted. Fury interrupting his little moment with Hela? Rude.
...Okay, flirting with an Asgardian in the boss's office was a bit much.
But only Dante could get away with it. Anyone else would've been dropkicked out the front door.
Fury's face was thundercloud-dark. He'd long accepted that he'd never win an argument against Dante.
His gaze shifted to the massive green dude munching on snacks on the couch.
"Dante, mind telling me what's going on with this guy?"
"A mad father. A dead mother. A broken home. And a genius."
"…You're really out here dropping rhyming summaries at a time like this? Why aren't you this talented when filing reports?!"
Cough cough. "I'm not making it up. That's literally Banner's backstory."
Dante shrugged. That was Bruce Banner in a nutshell.
Just then, a strange agent pushed the door open.
"Dante, I finished everything you asked."
"Now let's talk about me joining the Bureau."
And with that, he shapeshifted right in front of Fury—into a green, bald alien.
Dante smacked his forehead.
No wonder he'd felt like he was forgetting someone…
(To be continued.)